


And all that Remains, are the Broken Pieces of Me.

by 13sharoncarter



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-13 08:35:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29773497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/13sharoncarter/pseuds/13sharoncarter
Summary: Sharon Carter's life was never perfect. She knew that. She always had. She had enough experience in life to know that. She has been through some pretty rough shit. But after Harrison Carter drops a bomb, Sharon falls into a spiral leading to turmoil and self-destruction. Unfortunately, Sharon is not the only person who she breaks in this process.
Relationships: Sharon Carter/Steve Rogers
Kudos: 9





	And all that Remains, are the Broken Pieces of Me.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is heavy with angst. 
> 
> While this is a fic based in an Alternate Universe with Steve Rogers, and Sharon Carter, it is my goal with writing this fic that the story will still be enjoyable to readers even if they do not enjoy or like these characters in their canon material.
> 
> This fic will mention some heavy topics.
> 
> Apparently, I do not know how to write fluff without first writing angst, and for that my dear readers, I am sorry.
> 
> Also, I was never that great with grammar, so I also apologize for that.

“ _I’m sorry._ ”

Sharon Carter was never a super religious person. She never really put her full faith in God. Being born in Richmond, Virginia, most people would likely assume she was a die-hard Christian. But she never enjoyed bible stories, never enjoyed church, never fell in love with the concepts, and after _the incident_ a few years ago, she did not have any reason to believe that God existed. If someone were to ask her "do you pray?", she would say that she did not remember the last time she had. She would laugh or avoid the topic. Maybe come up with an excuse that her mother or her older sister would joke that it was likely back when her parents were still forcing her to go to church. Back when the Carter family was still living on the Carter Estate in Richmond.

But if Sharon were, to be honest, she did know when the last time she prayed was. If she were honest, she would admit that it was shortly after her twenty-first birthday. It was when _the incident_ happened. She got mixed up with the wrong people on her little trip around Europe. She had been far from home for over a month when it happened. Far from friends, far from family. She prayed that _they_ would stop. She prayed that she wouldn’t become the person she pretended to be for months, just to survive. She knew for a fact that that first week into it was the last time she prayed. After that first week, she felt that she knew for certain there was no God. And she was sure then that the world had forgotten her.

If God was real, they certainly were not Sharon’s favorite being, especially at this moment, where she felt so vulnerable. And she was sure that she would not be God’s favorite being either. But here she was standing outside of Steve’s apartment, and she was praying so hard. Perhaps harder than she prayed three years ago. She was praying although she knew that praying did not work. She was praying in hopes that Steve would do _anything_. That he would yell, or scream at her. Do something other than just stand there staring. She prayed he’d exclaim “leave me alone” or tell her “get out of my building and out of my life.” Anything but this silence, the _fucking_ silence. Anything other than this blank look. But just as she expected, God did not care for her prayers and the silence stayed.

Sharon turned her cheek, in hopes that he would not see the tears that were beginning to fall from her eyes. He had seen her cry enough. And she didn't want her tears to be the factor for him to decide to let her back in. Her blue eyes tried to focus on the floorboards below her. Staring at the floor, she was reminded of the last night she saw him. She had thought of it too many times the past few weeks. And just like every time those memories came back to her, the pain, the guilt, and the heartbreak came right along with it. 

* * *

It was a Sunday night, a pregnant Peggy and Gabe had made burgers for the family, Sharon and Harrison’s favorite meal. Sometime during the little family get-together, after Sharon had a few drinks with Gabe, after she was dancing around the room with her mother and sister, and during dinner, Harrison Carter had decided to drop a rather explosive bomb on his family. A bomb that no one was expecting. One that no one even saw coming. Harrison announced that he was leaving his family. Officially through paperwork, or not, he did not care. But Harrison Carter had decided to leave his wife of 30 years for a 'young lady'. And this _poor_ young girl was younger than Sharon. Harrison then announced that he and this young woman would be expecting a baby boy only a month or so after Peggy's own child was due. To put things into perspective, Peggy and Gabriel Carter-Jones were expecting their first child in a little over two months.

The Carter family just sat there in silence. They were all just trying to process this information. Sharon swore her heart stopped beating. She felt as if she couldn’t breathe. Sharon had looked to Amanda, her mother, and the older woman looked as if she was about to throw up. Sharon turned to her sister, Peggy, as pale as she was in that moment, looked as if she were going to faint. Gabriel had held tightly onto Peggy, probably to keep his wife upright, but the man looked just as uncomfortable as his wife and in-laws. But, despite the shape of his family, Harrison Carter kept going on, talking more about the affair he has kept secret from his family for three years. 

Sharon was going to be sick, that or she was going to punch someone. It could go either way.

The blonde then looked back to her father after he finished speaking. He just continued on with his meal as if nothing was wrong. He ate his burger and shrugged. 

After all of that, all he could do was shrug. That fucking _coward_. And then he spoke again, looking directly at his youngest daughter, and she could swear her blood was boiling. “ _Shar-bear_ , can you pass me the bowl of mashed potatoes? ”

Sharon let out a fit of laughter in disbelief. The _fucking_ nerve of Harrison Carter. She couldn’t believe him. Her blue eyes were wide as she shook her head at him. No, _no,_ she could not pass him the damn mashed potatoes. In fact, she could not stay seated at this table or even bear to be in the same house as _that man_. There were too many knives in this house, too many knives on the table. She abruptly pushed her seat back, shaking her head as she stood.

“ You are un- _fucking_ -believable.” The twenty-four-year-old cursed as she grabbed her keys off the table in the kitchen. She exited the house, not caring about the belongings she may have left behind. She just needed to get out of there. She was pretty sure she had seen Peggy out of the corner of her eye wobbling after her, but that didn’t matter. Sharon was determined to get out of there, left the house as fast as she could. And it was all a blur.

She didn’t remember the drive, didn’t remember parking her car. She didn’t remember which roads she took or if she went through when the lights were green or red. But as she sat in the now parked car. She looked around, and she was in a very familiar parking garage. This parking garage just happened to be the one for Steve’s apartment building. _Of course_ , he was the only person she wanted to see or talk to right now.

She sat in her car and put her head in her hands. She had no clue as to what she was going to do. Like, what exactly was she going to say to him? What could she possibly say? She couldn’t just knock on his door and say, “ Hey, sorry to come over unannounced. But my father, who I used to idolize, is leaving my mother because he knocked up some poor girl who is younger than me, and I was mentally close to killing him. Anyway, do you have any coffee? ”

Yeah, _yeah_ , that was definitely a great plan, way to go, Shar, full of great ideas.

The longer she sat in her car, the more she convinced herself that the plan could work. Steve was one of her closest friends. He had been since they were children. They were pretty much each other’s safe-havens.

She had met him in elementary school after her family moved to New York. Their whole friend group just kind of clicked together. He was the grade above her, and Peggy, Dum Dum, and Gabe the year above him. She was in the same grade as his closest friends Sam and Bucky, and her closest friend, pre-steve, Natasha, was in his year. It all worked out.

She was with him when his family had gotten sick. She was with him after his breakup with her sister when they had decided to date for two weeks during Sharon’s seventh-grade year. He was with her when she crashed her car in her junior year, and she had fucked up her foot so bad that she practically had to wear a boot for the entire school year, resulting in her losing her college ice hockey scholarship. Steve had tried to be there for her after the _incident_. They were each other’s rocks. If there was anything to be certain about during this tough time, it was that Steve would be there for her, he always was.

She sighed, hit her head on the steering wheel letting out a groan as she pulled the key out of the ignition. She slammed the door to her car, harshly, and locked it before making her way over to the building's door. She used the code that she memorized, due to how often she would be at the apartment building, and then made her way up the many dreadful stairs of his building to get to his floor and eventually knock upon his door.

She should have sent him a text, or called, maybe even buzzed in to let him know she was coming up. But here she was just knocking frantically at his door instead. She didn’t even know if he was alone. Sam or Bucky could have been there with him, it was their apartment too. Hell, she didn’t even know if he was home. But she just kept knocking until the door eventually swung open. And there Steve was, covered in paint, and the lovely singing voice of Sinatra could be heard coming from inside his apartment. _Ah_ , so he was alone. 

There was a stupid smirk on the artist’s lips as he looked at her as she stood in his doorway. He shook his head at her. “ You better have a good excuse for being here, it is very rare when I get moments like these to myself to just paint. "

He ran the back of his hand against his brow, leading to paint on his hand to transfer to his forehead. He tried to rub the paint off as he realized what he had done, and the paint just smeared worse, taking over more area. Usually, this would lead Sharon to make a snide remark and tease him. Or maybe she would just laugh before pushing him out of the doorway so he could just barge into his apartment. Instead, she opened her mouth in an attempt to say _something_ , but all that came out was an ugly and horrendous sob.

The smirk that was on Steve’s lips quickly fell and his blue eyes just blinked at her. It was, understandably, a lot to process.

Sharon could not remember the last time she cried in front of someone. Not even after the _incident_ had she cried in front of even her closest friends and family. Sharon Irene Carter was not an emotionally vulnerable person. After all that happened, she kept her emotions on lockdown. She liked to bury her emotions way down deep, that way no one could ever find them. Sharon had done everything in her power to make sure no one would see her cry. 

Steve was always there for her, he has proved it time and time again, but even so, she found it extremely difficult to open up and tell him everything. So clearly the Carter woman had finally reached a breaking point, to be this _vulnerable_ in front of him.

This sight of her crying did not phase Steve for more than a second or two before he opened his door completely and pointed his paint-covered hand in the direction of his couch. Telling her silently to go and sit. Sharon walked in and flopped down onto the couch as Steve shut the door behind her. He then killed the voice of Sinatra by turning off his stereo. Leaving the two blondes to be surrounded by silence and Sharon’s sobs.

He sat down beside her, without saying a word, just looking over at her. He was about to ask her what was wrong. She could see it on the tip of his tongue. But she was finding it difficult to say the words. The young blonde allowed herself to be vulnerable in a different way and collapsed into his side. This gesture blocked the words from leaving Steve’s lips. 

Steve’s arms wrapped around Sharon without hesitation as she leaned into him. She and Steve have hugged, they’ve cuddled, hell even been wrapped in each other’s embrace before, that was not new. The two friends did not shy away from physical affection, at least, before the _incident_ they hadn’t. But even still, Sharon had never truly noticed, or paid attention to how calming it was to be held in his arms. For a moment she just tried to focus on his warmth, and how innocent and pure this _sad_ little moment between them was.

Wasn’t that something they all took for granted? Innocence, purity. It was surely something she took for granted. The little moments. It made her sick to her stomach to think about how her father, no not her father, how Harrison, had just ripped all of that from her in just a few simple sentences. She did not want any more of a connection to that man. He did not deserve the title of father.

She would never be the same girl she was just a few hours ago. Where she was just dancing with her sister and her brother-in-law, singing along with her mother. “... _Ferrari. Like the car..._ ” God, their taste was in their mouth, but it was _pure_. And now those memories were all _tainted_.

Thinking about that just made Sharon turn in Steve’s arms. She wanted to burrow herself into a hole and hide. Her head now rested against his chest as she continued to cry, staining his shirt with her salty tears. He gave her a gentle squeeze, the silence still filling the air. He was going to let her cry. There was an unspoken understanding that they would have time to talk _later_ , but right now she just needed to cry, and he was going to let her. 

Time melted. She didn’t know what time it was when she stopped crying. But her blue eyes were red, her cheeks were puffy, and Steve's poor shirt was soiled from her tears. She enjoyed his warm embrace, but even still she had felt so alone, so empty, so _shattered_. 

Sharon leaned back, heavy breaths and many sniffles escaped her before she was able to speak. But Steve’s blue eyes were locked onto hers during this time, to make sure that she was alright. She _wasn’t_ but it was nice that he was so concerned. She took a shaky breath and raked her hand through her hair. Her eyes eventually traveled down to the large stain on Steve’s shirt, and she stayed focused on it for a moment or two. “ Your shirt… ” She mumbled through her sniffles. 

Steve’s eyes left her as he too looked down at his shirt. He shook his head as he chuckled. “ I have plenty of other shirts. Luckily for you, this shirt was going to be ruined by paint. So, on the bright side, you have saved it from that sad fate.” His comment made her smile, it was weak, and it didn’t last long, but at least for a moment, he had gotten her to smile.

He stood up from the couch after a moment. Sharon frowned, reaching out towards him, not wanting him to leave her. She wasn’t ready to get up, and she wasn’t ready to let go of his comforting aura. Steve laughed gently at her stubbornness. “ I’ll be right back, I just want to quickly clean up my painting supplies, shower, change my clothes. Can’t blame me. I promise I won’t be more than twenty minutes. And then my attention, it is all yours. ”

Sharon sighed before nodding her head. Her arms went back to her side as she watched him walk through his apartment. When he was out of sigh, Sharon curled back into herself. Without Steve there, the young woman grew distracted thinking back to what had happened earlier that night. She went to reach for her phone, hoping she could look at some stupid little animal video to distract herself while Steve was in the shower, but she found nothing. There was no phone on her person. 

_Shit_. 

She must have left it at her parent’s house. While that information explained a lot. It did not make Sharon feel any better. It answered the question of why her phone had not been buzzing due to calls from Margaret, Amanda, or Gabriel, to see where she went or if she was okay. 

In the back of her mind, she had ruled the lack of calls to just be that she was too _numb_ to properly notice what was going on around her. But no, no that was not it. No, she just left her stupid phone at Harrison and Amanda Carter’s residence. Correction, Amanda’s residence, _Harrison_ was leaving.

Eventually, Steve was out of the shower and in new clothes. It was a painful twenty minutes. And he was able to distract Sharon from the horrible space that was her mind. 

She smiled sadly looking over at the man. His hair was still dripping wet. No more paint covered the man, and he was no longer wearing paint-stained or tear-stained clothes. “ Let’s go get some coffee. ” He said with a soft smile. “ I believe you owe me a cup of coffee, don’t you Carter? ”

He made her laugh as he made his way back to her. He reached out to grab her hand to help her stand and they were on their way.

Sharon and Steve walked hand in hand through the streets of the city before entering the late-night coffee shop which had only been a few blocks away. He had brought a sketchbook with him. Sharon knew what he was doing, and she let him. She could use the distraction to get out of her head. And Steve knew just how to do it.

They sat in a booth, where Steve spent most of the time talking to her about the sketches he had within the pages of his notebook. He gave detailed descriptions, about the many characters he had drawn, and the importance of the color schemes that went into representing the characters. There were benefits to being friends with a comic book artist. It was nice to just watch his creativity and excitement unfold. Each time Steve smiled and pointed to a new character, Sharon felt the pieces of her heart slowly fill with joy. Steve’s imagination was a good distraction. But Steve only had so many characters, and their coffee, after an hour or so, was beginning to lose its good taste. Steve paid for their coffee and then they left the little shop walking heading back to his apartment. Sharon couldn’t find it in herself to let go of his hand as they silently made their way back.

“ Do you want to tell me what happened now? ”

Before now, she was not sure she’d have it in her to open up, given her past, given how guarded she was. She feared that everything would come crashing back down if she spoke about it. But her trust in Steve, at least at the moment, seemed to outweigh her fear. And suddenly she was telling him everything, it all coming out like word vomit in hushed whispers. When she finally finished, Steve’s jaw was left hanging. He, just like Sharon and her family, hadn’t seen it coming.

“ How long has it gone on? ”

Sharon hesitated. “ Since my twenty-first birthday, apparently.” She hung her head, not wanting to dwell back on that dark time in her life. 

Steve stopped walking forcing her to look back at him. “ Don’t do that. Don’t blame yourself for him doing that. ”

She turned away from him, clearing her throat, noting she didn’t want to talk about it. Noting that she was going to ignore his words, cause that was exactly what a small part of her was doing. She shook her head before going back to what she was saying. “So, anyway, it has been going on, in his words, every other weekend for the past three or so years. He never really had those stupid business meetings or those conferences. He hadn’t been dedicating himself to his job. No, he was just hooking up with this young woman, this girl.” Sharon shuttered freezing where they walked. She squeezed his hand tightly as if that was the only thing keeping her grounded at the moment. Her voice grew small. “Steve, she was nineteen when their affair started. It makes me sick to my stomach to think about it. It absolutely disgusts me. ” 

Sharon shook her head with anger. “ And here mom was just trusting him. Steve, she loved him, so much. And she just hoped he’d come home from these trips okay. That he wouldn’t get into some sort of accident. I-I don’t know how he could have done this to her. I don’t know how he could be so _selfish,_ how he could be such a _coward._ ” 

She knew that men weren’t great. She had experienced. The incident three years ago was enough to prove it, as well as many other incidents in her twenty-four-years of life. But she never thought her dad would be among those men. She never thought her father had it in him. She had idolized Harrison growing up but look at them now.

The tears returned to her face as they reached his building. They stopped speaking again. Sharon just leaned into Steve as they walked up the many stairs back to his apartment in silence.

She was quiet as he unlocked the door to his apartment. He turned his head to her, and his face lingered so close to her own. Their hands were still connected, and Steve’s grip was suddenly so strong, and so present. Her blue eyes flickered from their hands, his eyes, and then quickly to his lips. She was in pain, and she was not thinking rationally. Deep down, _deep down,_ she knew that. Everything was pointing to the fact that whatever direction this was going in was going to be a _shit-poor_ idea. 

Her first thought was that she was gonna tell him she loved him. While the statement would be true, how ridiculously stupid was that idea? She certainly could not admit too. After all, she was not sure that _love_ was real, not anymore. But then again he was right there. And he was always there. And it _felt_ like love. It _always_ had, she just never knew how to admit it. And she needed something to distract her from the pain. So why not say it? Because she had just made a fool of herself crying in front of him, she wasn’t in the right state emotionally to deal with this. So, with all of that information in mind, she went for something worse than a shit-poor idea. She went for _fucking-shit-poor_ idea. 

Sharon bit down on her lip, bouncing back on her heels for a moment before she leaned into him, her lips pressing against his. This, _this_ , right here was certainly the _best_ she felt since the bomb was dropped.

Steve kissed her back instantly. And for a moment, this idea didn’t feel _entirely_ shit-poor. But that moment did not last long. He abruptly tore his lips from her own, stepping back into his apartment door. His hand went to the back of his head, his cheeks were flushed red, blue eyes were wide, he was flustered, needing a moment or so to process what had just happened. 

Sharon kept her eyes on him, trying to read what was going on in his mind.

He shook his head, a moment before swinging his apartment door open and walking inside.

Sharon stood there outside his doorway, left out there frozen in her place. Steve nodded his head for her to come in, and just like that she hung her head, feeling ashamed, as she walked on in re-entering his apartment again. He closed the door behind her.

And Sharon was instantly angry with herself. She got into her head as she avoided Steve’s gaze. _This_ is exactly why she avoided her emotions. Situations like _this_. She hated herself, she hated herself so much. She was so selfish and she just ruined this. 

“ Steve, I-,” She was about to mutter out an apology. But she was cut off. Silenced by the fact that she was suddenly pushed against his closed apartment door. She let out a scuff as her blue eyes looked back up at him. His eyes looked wild, and she was digging it. Her heart was racing, as he leaned into her. It seems they both were full of _stupid_ and _impulsive_ decisions. And neither one of them had a rational thought in their heads. His lips were hovering just above hers, and Sharon unable to deal with the tension between them leaned forward meeting his lips halfway. Her hands traveled from his chest to his hair, as she began running her fingers through the little waves of blonde.

As Steve deepened their kiss, her hands traveled back down from his hair to his shoulders where she began to shove the jacket off his arms. And Steve suddenly broke free from her again. 

His arms were now clenched tightly on her shoulders, keeping her from stripping him of his jacket. “ _Shar_ , this is not a good idea. ” 

Okay, so maybe one of the two was _trying_ to think logically.

“ You’re upset, and all but- we-we shouldn’t rush this- it wouldn’t be right of me to- I want this to be perfect-”

 _Screw perfect_ , _there was no such thing._

Sharon turned her cheek as he spoke, tears running down her face. She had cried so much this night, and Steve hated the sight of her so upset, in so much pain. And just like that Steve’s heart broke, and he was in pieces too, right along with her. The blonde turned her head towards the man she loved. “ _Please_ , we're both adults here. ” She muttered with a shake of her head. 

And with a shake of his head, and a deep breath, Steve gave in. It was going to happen. And there was nothing either of them could do to stop it, it was _inevitable_. _They_ were inevitable. Steve Rogers nodded his head at Sharon Carter, this time pulling her back to him, to kiss her slowly before shimmying his jacket off his shoulders, and leading her into his bedroom, and locking the door behind him. They didn’t speak the rest of the night, too focused on each other. Too focused on the distraction, and the pain.

Broken pieces remained after the events unfolded. There was agony, there were tears, there was nothing but the two of them, yet everything was collapsing around them. And then, eventually, for a brief moment, there was release.

When Sharon woke up that next morning she felt so _incredibly_ guilty. What did she do? She wanted to run. She looked at Steve, and she could see red tear-stained cheeks, and Sharon suddenly felt shattered all over again. She had done that, hadn’t she? Her hand reached to cover her lips and to hold back yet another ugly sob. She didn’t mean to hurt him. But isn’t that what she did last night?

The blonde sat up in Steve’s bed, as his covers slipped off of her, she stretched to wake herself up. She turned to look at his alarm to see the time. 

6:16 am. 

She wasn’t going to be late for her graduate class. The seminar didn’t start for hours. But it felt wrong just laying there. It felt strange to wait for Steve to wake up. What would she even say to him? And she still had to check in with her family, and get her belongings, and she should probably take a shower. 

Sharon took her time sliding out of Steve’s bed. She didn’t want to shift too much and disturb him. Mostly because he deserved to sleep, but partially because she was dreading the conversation that would follow last night’s activities. Once out of his bed, she raced, quietly around his room, gathering the articles of clothing that were scattered across his floor, and quickly got herself dressed. She turned back to Steve and frowned before making her way over to his side. She bent down and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. Looking down at him, she was convinced that he deserved so much better than her. She would never be able to take _any_ of this back. She was sure she broke his heart last night. And he didn’t deserve that. She was so hurt that she was blinded by the fact that she hurt him in trying to make herself feel better. She stood staring at him for a moment before gently brushing back his blonde waves, for a moment she could pretend she hadn’t ruined anything.

Sharon sighed as she unlocked his bedroom door to leave. And then she stopped.

He deserved, at the very least, a note. She scrambled quietly around his room once more to grab one of his drawing pencils, and a piece of paper so that she could quickly scribble down some words, and leave a note on his nightstand.

She’d figure this all out later. She’d talk with him after seminars. She was working towards her Ph.D., he’d understand that she had to go. Graduate programs were hard, he’d get it. Or maybe she would just wait until tomorrow. She would have her emotions under control by then and she would know what to properly say to him by then.

She avoided waking up Steve and ran down the stairs of his building as fast as she could. She got in her car and drove in the direction of her apartment, thinking of the haunting little words she had written in that little note to Steve.

_I’m sorry._

* * *

That had been seven weeks ago. She never figured out what to say. Those words were the last two words she had said to him in roughly one thousand one hundred and eighty hours. She did the math. It was another way of mentally torturing herself.

She should’ve talked to him before now. She should have seen him earlier, she knew that. But she could not turn back time.

She was an idiot, though. She could admit to that. She knew “ _I’m sorry_ ” didn’t cut it. Writing it then, saying it now, it didn’t fix anything. To Steve, it probably didn’t mean shit.

She couldn’t look him in the eye as the tears fell. There was so much she should say, but she was having trouble saying it. And he had every right to throw her out. But this silence was killing her. “ Steve… _Please_ , say something. Argue with me. Be upset, yell. _Anything_. ” She pleaded, cheek still turned so he could not see her face.

He shook his head and the look of _disappointment_ and pain was enough to bring a sob from her lips. She could feel him glaring at her, and she knew she deserved it.

She finally turned to face him, the tears freely falling. And Steve’s stony expression faltered and he looked concerned. Sharon opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out.

She tried to figure out what to say, _so_ many times. But the words never came.

She was just going to run again, and turn around. _Maybe_ she was like Harrison Carter after all. Maybe, she too was still a coward, and she was still running away. She hadn’t fixed things at all, and she could not. She would just have to try again another day.

As she turned away from him again walking towards the steps, as she placed her hand on her abdomen. 

She tried. She put an effort in, and she tried. Maybe she did not try hard enough, but she tried. Tomorrow was another day, she had time to make this right.

* * *

She had forgotten the keys to her apartment, left them at the Carter Residence when she had left in a hurry to abandon her family and ignore her father. 

So, here she was unable to get into her building to change into new clothes before seeing her family. _Great_. Now, she had to go all the way to her parents' house, and then come back to her apartment, before heading to campus.

 _Fucking wonderful_.

Her father’s car was not in the driveway when she arrived. She counted that as a blessing. But Peggy’s car was still parked in front of the house. _Great_. She and her husband must have been waiting for her along with her mother. She wished they didn’t worry so much. As Sharon entered the house opening the door, she was greeted by her frantic mother and an upset Pregnant sister. They were worried sick. 

Sharon was a shell, and shattered, she found it hard to put effort into her explanations of the night before. She didn’t truly respond as they talked to her. She spoke words and answered their questions, but they weren’t even half-assed, she paid no attention to the words that flew for her mouth. She just gathered her belongings. She grabbed her keys and phone. That was where her focus lied. Once her phone was in her hands and was filled with dread. So many unread messages and voicemails that she had missed since she left her family in a fit of anger last night.

She saw some from Nat, and some from her mother and her sister, obviously from before they realized her phone was still with them. And then she saw the messages from Harrison Carter. And the blonde’s blood began to boil again. And then a new text came in from Steve and she threw her phone across the room, making everyone around her freeze in place. As Sharon’s phone shattered to the floor. Sharon fell to the ground. Her mother raced to her side, and Gabriel helped Peggy done to her sister’s level. They didn’t quite know what to do, Sharon was never like this with them, she was never vulnerable, not even after the incident. 

Sharon did not make it to her seminar that day. And she certainly did not read the text Steve sent, nor did she replace her broken phone. 

She spent the day in a state of emotional hell.

* * *

When Tuesday came around she threw herself into her studies. Trying to forget what had happened Sunday and Monday.

She had this habit of throwing herself into her work. She was a good worker, and she was hardworking, but she never threw herself into her work more than when she was shutting herself in, and away from everyone else. 

She didn’t leave her apartment or talk to people unless it had something to do with Metaphysical Psychology, her graduate classes, or her track to getting her Ph.D.

She was in a state of mental collapse and turmoil. She was building up more walls so she couldn’t hurt any more people and so that they could not hurt her in return. 

The last time she was like this was after _the incident_. It seemed old habits were easy to fall into.

Sharon had disconnected the landline to her apartment, claiming the calls were a distraction from her studies. 

She had no roommate, so she was completely alone in her little apartment. Alone to wallow in her own self-pity and hatred. Alone to focus on her studies.

She didn’t let anyone stop by, she even went as far as to have the landlord change the locks to her apartment so anyone that had a spare key couldn’t barge in to try and get her out of whatever _this_ was. 

And since none of her friends or family knew her schedule for her graduate classes, they couldn’t exactly track her done on campus.

She cut herself off from everyone. It was not healthy. She knew it. But she didn’t know how to fix it. Or maybe she just didn’t want to. Maybe it was just easier to be so mad with herself and to put so much effort into this one thing than it was to put effort into fixing this mess she made.

This is how it was for the next four or five weeks. She would have kept going like this if the girl who sat next to her in her Tuesday 9 am lecture hadn’t asked her for a tampon. If she hadn’t asked, Sharon might not have come to the realization that she was two weeks late. 

It took her a full day to gather up the courage to go to the store and buy some tests. She didn’t know anything about this stuff, so she just bought multiple tests, different brands and all. _Better to be safe right?_ It didn’t pass on her how _ironic_ that statement was.

The twenty-four-year-old paced back and forth in her bathroom after taking the first test. She waited the five minutes in pain and torture. Each step she took her head was filled with thoughts about how she’d be a horrible mother, how she would somehow end up like her father, how if she was pregnant she didn’t deserve the kid, that the kid would deserve a better parent than her, a better life than she could provide. 

Sharon’s mind truly was her own worst enemy.

Sharon paced back and forth, the negative thoughts continuing on at full speed as she paced back and forth. Eventually, the timer dinged, and she went to the sink to turn over the test. 

_Two lines._

Okay. _Okay._

That didn’t necessarily mean she was pregnant. _False_ positives were entirely possible. 

So she pulled out another test and repeated the process.

The peeing. 

The waiting.

The pacing. 

The mental torture. 

The ding of the timer. 

The race to the sink.

The turning the test over.

_Positive._

“It's fine.” 

Again. _Another test_. The peeing. The waiting. The pacing. The mental torture. The ding of the timer. The race to the sink. The turning the test over.

_‘+’_

“Oh, God.” 

Repeat. Pee. Wait. Pace. Mental torture. DING. Race. Turn.

_Pregnant._

Her heart raced as she dropped the fourth test into the sink along with the others.

Sharon let out a long breath to calm herself down as she sat carefully down onto the bathroom floor of her apartment. She wrapped herself around her abdomen.

Four positive tests, all different brands, it felt nearly certain, she couldn’t really deny that. Sure she could try, but that would not help her with her current problems.

Sharon shut her eyes tightly. The negative thoughts racing in her head. 

“ I’m so sorry. You didn’t ask for this. ” She whispered to the little _thing_ growing inside of her. Sharon let out a laugh. Here she was shutting herself off from everyone, trying to keep herself isolated from everyone, and it turns out the entire time she was never alone.

She shook her head and continued the conversation she was having. “ You didn’t ask to be - ” She froze, not sure what to say. “ _Made_ ,” yeah, sure that would work, for her little heart to heart with the little ball of cells that had no ways of communicating back to her. “ and here you are. And you're stuck with me.” Oh, how she pitied the little one. Her self-hatred for herself took over, once again, as she began to cry. _“I’m sorry_. I am a mess. And you deserve better, but I promise, I am going to love you. And I’m going to try… and I am not going to leave you.” She was not going to run from this. She was not going to run anymore. She didn’t want to have one more negative thing going on about herself that reminded her of Harrison Carter.

She probably was not in the right mental space for this, hell she knew she wasn’t but she was going to get the help, and she was going to fix this. Depression was a messy road, and it was different for everyone. And a baby, _a baby_ was not going to fix her problems, or make them easier to deal with. But it was happening. And if she was going to do this parent-thing, they deserved her to try her best to better, if not for herself, for them. So she was going to give this her best shot.

She knew she had options other than trying out the whole _parent_ thing. Adoption. Abortion. They were good options. But they weren’t for her. She knew that the adoption and foster care system was messy and nothing was for certain. She had remembered hearing the stories from Natasha growing up about the horrors she went through at times. Her childhood wasn’t always pleasant, and Nat certainly wasn’t the only child that was put through pain in a faulted system. She was not going to put her baby, or Steve’s baby through that.

And as for abortion, she couldn’t force her mind to think of it as a logical option. It was stupid really, how attached she became to the clump of cells. She wanted to distance herself, just like she had with everyone else around her. But, maybe she just didn’t have the energy. 

After making the choice that she would keep it, her mind kept floating back to Steve. Steve who, in her freshman year, would joke that he would marry her. Steve, who had helped her out with her “baby” project in her sophomore year after her “wife” had moved schools so that she wasn’t stuck taking care of and raising an animatronic baby all by herself. Steve, who used said project to joke about he could use this as practice for when he becomes a stay-at-home father for their future children. She always knew that Steven Grant Rogers was meant to have a good little family. He was meant to be a dad. And she realized she could not keep this secret from him.

Sharon was not perfect, and she knew that Steve was not perfect either. But she was convinced he was the closest thing to it. And if this baby was half him, then it was going to be gonna be a hell of a kid.

It was funny that after the past few weeks _this_ was the thing that made it so she would stop being so shut in and selfish.

It was unfair that _this_ was the push that sent her to finally get help, but she couldn’t change that. It was the way it is. She couldn’t change that this is what gave her the courage to not shut down again, and to let people back in. She knew a _baby_ didn’t fix anything, a baby could not fix her problems, but it gave her something to hold onto. It was a rope that could help pull her out of this hole that she had dug for herself.

She spent time and research into finding a psychiatrist that she could trust and talk to. Someone she could talk to about her father, someone she could talk to about _the incident_. She didn’t talk about the Steve situation in detail, even though it might have benefited her, but she talked about her child. 

She was now seeing them weekly, and she was on medicine to _help_ better her mental health. Medicine that's safe for the baby.

She couldn’t work herself to set up any appointments before talking to Steve, but she got herself prenatal vitamins. 

She reconnected her landline, but still refused to get a new cell phone. Small steps forward were still progress. 

She slowly started to let people back in. Her mother, Peggy, and Gabe. Her friends. It took her two weeks to get there. She was working her way to figuring out how to talk to Steve. But she decided that the next step of moving forward was him. She had to make it right. But she was scared. Scared she would break him again. Scared she would ruin his life. But that didn’t matter. Cause he deserved to know, she couldn’t keep shutting _him_ out.

It was a Monday night when she decided to drive to Steve’s apartment after having a horrible fit of morning sickness after eating some dinner with her sister. She figured she would have a hard time hiding the symptoms from her pregnant sister. She needed to take a bigger step and tell Steve, so she could eventually fill in the rest of her family.

When she finally knocked on his door, she just hoped she was doing the right thing.

She had watched him open the door. They stared at each other in silence before she said the same words that she had written those seven weeks ago.

* * *

“ Sharon... ”

His voice was thin and frail. Her name sounded like a _whimper_ as it passed his lips. And it hurt her soul. Sharon turned her head around to see that he too was crying. He looked like he wanted to say something, but it seemed he didn’t know what he wanted to say.

She caused this, _hadn’t she_? Her running away from her emotions, her running away from him. She hurt him, and she hurt him _bad_.

Sharon turned around completely, her hand was still pressed up tight against her stomach. She wanted to tell him it was okay, that she _understood_ , but then her eyes saw where his blue eyes had fluttered down to. He was looking at how her hand was placed on her stomach. She could see his gears turning as his eyes widened, and the pieces were put together. He looked back up at her, probably wishing for her to say something to confirm or deny his suspicions, but she immediately looked away from him, her gaze now focused on the ground.

“ You’re - You’re… Are- Are you- ” He didn’t have to finish the question he was stumbling over. She knew what he was trying to say, she nodded her head and he understood. 

_She was._

She looked back at him to gauge his reaction, but this time his head was the one looking towards the ground, and she was finding it hard to read him. Was he mad? Was he disappointed? What was he thinking? What was going on in that head of his?

Sharon took a shaky breath, fidgeting where she stood. She shook her head before taking a step forward. _Courage_. She placed her free hand on his cheek, forcing him to look at her. “Steve, I am trying to make this right. I swear to you, I _am_ going to make this right. ”

He stared at her for a long time. Sharon questioned if she had said the right thing or not. For a moment she thought he would pull away from her, back into his apartment, and slam the door in her face. But slowly he rested his one hand on top of her’s which was on his cheek, and the other on top of the one resting on her abdomen. And then he smiled, that pure Steve Rogers’ smile that she had loved so much.

Sharon was going to do everything in her power to make sure that for the rest of his life, Steve would have moments like this, where his smile was shining so brightly. She would do everything to make sure that they were _okay_. That she would make up for her prior selfish behavior. She would make sure Steve would know he was loved. She would spend a lot of her time making sure he knew she did love him. 

This little moment of quiet forgiveness from Steve, this moment of pure joy, it was enough. Enough to make her blame herself less, enough to allow herself to forgive herself, for a moment. Enough to convince her that eventually, it would be okay, they would figure it out.

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't actually decided what I am going to do with this fic after this "First Chapter." I do not know whether I will continue on with their story, from this point. Maybe I will leave it as is. Maybe the next chapter is what would happen if Sharon talked to Steve sooner. Who knows. But whatever I decide, I hope this was at least something you could enjoy.


End file.
